


MIDKNIGHT

by xxalways_and_foreverxx



Series: Scomiche: The Prompt Series [3]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Fluff, M/M, creepy guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 05:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11960373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxalways_and_foreverxx/pseuds/xxalways_and_foreverxx
Summary: To fill this prompt: It’s the middle of the night and I’m walking home alone in the dark and there’s this guy following me and he’s starting to gain on me and I found this phone booth with a lock on the door and I tried to call my best friend but my hands were shaking so badly I accidentally dialled the wrong number and I don’t even know you but help me





	MIDKNIGHT

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone. Title courtesy of the crazy kids on Twitter. They know exactly who they are. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the love on NMWYA. I'm so overwhelmed that people liked it so much. I'm still very much of the opinion everything I post is average at best, so to see something I wrote so well received means everything to me.
> 
> I've had a wonderful day so thought I'd post this. Enjoy. <3

It’s nearing midnight when Mitch is finally able to lock the door behind him, silently cursing his past self for agreeing to work the closing shift. Normally it’s fine, but his colleague had ducked out half an hour before with a family emergency, which left Mitch alone jumping at every little noise in the old, rundown coffee shop as he swept the floor and wiped down the counters.

He knew the clanging noise in the walls was just the water pipes settling down. No, the creaking floorboard wasn’t someone creeping up behind him. The door into the back swayed in the draught creeping through the gaps around the windows, not because some _thing_  was messing with him.

Still, his heart raced as he turned all the lights off one by one, shadows creeping across the floor. A shiver ran down his spine as he darted across the wooden floors towards the street lights spilling in through the windows.

Taking a deep breath, Mitch slips the key out of the lock and drops it into his bag, digging around for his phone. He walks down the short ramp to the sidewalk, checking his Twitter notifications and turns left, heading down the block towards his apartment building. It’s not that far and he’s walked a lot further on his own late at night when he can’t sleep.

He’s so focused on looking at the screen that doesn’t notice the person stepping out of the shadow of a building to follow him.

\--

It’s half a dozen blocks before Mitch starts to feel uneasy. He shrugs his shoulders to push away the feeling of being watched, suppressing a shiver. Goose bumps rise on his arms underneath his jacket but he just pulls it tighter across his chest.

The feeling disappears as quickly as it started. Mitch giggles at a video on his timeline and carries on walking.

Another block later he absentmindedly peeks over his shoulder.

There’s a guy about twenty feet behind him, head bowed down as he follows the same path Mitch is taking. He’s got a cap on and his hood pulled up over it so his face is in shadow. Something about the way he’s keeping the same distance between them makes Mitch’s blood run cold and his steps falter.

_Oh god_ , he thinks.

Mitch slips his phone into the pocket of his jeans and readjusts his bag on his shoulder, zipping up his coat and trying to keep calm. He takes a deep breath and wishes his heart would stop beating so hard against his ribcage.

Maybe the person following him is just another person out for a late night walk. Maybe he’s on his way home from work too. Maybe he’s on his way to his girlfriend’s, or sister’s, or a local bar. When Mitch reaches the crosswalk and stops to check the traffic, looking left and right, he looks behind him again and this other person has stopped too, looking in the window of the shop they’ve just passed.

Panic starts to well up in his throat and tears form in his eyes. His heart feels like it’s going to break out of his chest. He can hear his blood rushing past his ears, faster and faster and faster until he feels dizzy.

Oh fuck, what does he do?

He doesn’t want to draw attention to the fact that he’s noticed this complete stranger is following him. Doesn’t want to provoke him into mugging him, or hurting him. The thought is enough to make Mitch want to run the rest of the way home, but he concentrates on putting one foot in front of the other at the same steady pace he’d been walking previously.

It’s hard. Mitch can feel his hands start to shake so pushes them into the pockets of his jacket. His fingers brush against his house key and he clenches it between his fingers, decides it will make a decent weapon if he needs to use it. It won’t do much harm, but it’ll definitely distract this person enough that Mitch will be able to get away unharmed.

Mitch tries to remember the things he’s read online. Toss your bag away from you and run if someone tries to take it? Make a lot of noise so it deters your attacker?

His vision blurs as he concentrates on the sidewalk ahead, the cracks in the surface standing out and the sharpness of the lights fading in and out as he focuses on the steps he’s taking. He hopes that someone will walk around the next corner, hopes that a cab will drive by so he can flag it down, and then he sees it in the distance like a beacon.

A phone booth.

He hasn’t had to use one for years, not since he’s had a cell phone, but if Mitch remembers correctly, some of them have locks on the inside. It’s not robust, wouldn’t take much for someone to break into, but it’s enough; it’s sanctuary when, at the moment, he’s in the open.

Slowly Mitch picks up the pace. He’s twenty feet away. Fifteen feet. Ten. It’s so close that he runs the last couple of feet, diving inside and feeling around the metal door until his hand lands on a deadbolt and he slides it across.

He doesn’t look behind him, concentrating on pulling his phone out his pocket and unlocking the screen, fingers shaking and feeling a million times bigger than they normally do.

Mitch scrolls through the numbers in his contacts, swearing under his breath when he realises he doesn’t have his best friend’s number saved. It’s a new phone and he didn’t need to right way, hadn’t needed to get in touch for anything, but he thinks he can remember it. He types the numbers quickly, not checking it before he presses the green call button and holds it to his ear.

It rings and rings and rings. He bounces on the balls of his feet nervously as he waits for the call to connect.

“Hello?” greets the unfamiliar voice on the other end of the line. Mitch frowns. It’s definitely not the high-pitched voice of his roommate he was expecting.

“Fuck,” Mitch whines. “I’m sorry. I think I have the wrong number.”

Mitch doesn’t even wait for a response before he’s hanging up and dialling again, taking care to make sure he’s typed it correctly this time. He puts it to his ear and listens to it ring again.

It’s not even three seconds before it connects and the same voice is chuckling as he says, “I think you have the wrong number again.”

“Goddammit,” Mitch shouts. “I’m so sorry. I promise I’m not doing it on purpose.”

“That’s okay.”

“Okay. Goodbye. Sorry again,” Mitch replies, trying his hardest to talk past the lump in his throat. Tears are starting to fall and he can’t stop shaking. He hangs up and looks behind his shoulder.

This guy just won’t give up. He stood the other side of the road now, looking intently through the window of the shop he’s stood in front of, but Mitch can see him checking over his shoulder, checking to see if Mitch is still there.

Mitch is so focused on breathing and not freaking out any more than he already is that he jumps when his phone starts ringing in his hand. It’s the number he’s accidentally wrung twice now and he doesn’t have time for this, patience non-existent as he answers.

“Hi. Look, I’m sorry for calling you, but I really need to get in touch with my friend.”

“No, I understand. But are you okay? You sound upset and I wanted to see if I could help.”

“No, I am  _not_  okay.” He winces as his voice cracks. “I’ve just finished work and I’m being followed by some creep and I’m hiding in a phone booth and I just want to call my friend to come get me so I don’t have time for chit-chat.”

“Oh my god. Really? Where are you?” the person on the other side of the call says.

“Unless you’re in LA, I really don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

Mitch has had enough of this and doesn’t care how snappy he sounds. Why did he have to do the close tonight? Why did his colleague have to leave early? He wants to be curled up in his bed with a bottle of wine and a movie, not scared for his life.

“Must be your lucky night because I am, in fact, in LA. Where are you and I’ll come to you right now? I’m not doing anything and I really want to make sure you’re okay.”

He debates on telling this total stranger he’s never spoken to before in his life where he is, but when Mitch’s stalker crosses back over the road, not even hiding the fact he’s looking directly at him now, Mitch figures he can’t get into any more trouble than he’s already in. He tells the person on the other end of the phone where he is.

“Okay. I’m about fifteen minutes away. I’m leaving now. Lock the door if you can and don’t open it to anyone.”

“Oh, I wasn’t planning to move from this spot. Please hurry,” he pleads before he hangs up his phone and drops his head back behind him to rest against the side of the booth.

He looks up at the light above his head, trying to ignore the figure standing not even twenty feet away, looking at him, waiting for him to leave, waiting to do  _something_  that makes Mitch shiver uncomfortably and tears fall down his cheeks. A sob escapes and he holds his hands up to his face, hiding his distress.

It can’t have been ten minutes later when there’s a knock at the door. Mitch jumps and pulls his hands away from his face. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, clearing his vision before looking up.

Standing the other side of the door is a tall, blonde stranger looking him over, concern in his blue eyes. His wavy hair falls into his eyes and he pushes it back, sighing in exasperation when it falls straight back down.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

Mitch tries to look over his shoulder through the glass, tries to see if the creep has left but he can’t see over the broad body blocking his view.

“Hi. I’m fine. I’m waiting for someone.” Mitch tries to sound calm, holding his head high defiantly. His hands are still shaking as he holds them at his sides, fists clenched so tight he can feel his nails digging into his palms.

“I know. It’s me. The person you called. Can you open the door?”

Mitch quirks an eyebrow and crosses his arms across his chest, standing straighter. He tries to make himself look more confident than he feels, but Mitch knows he’s failing miserably when a smirk alights the face in front of him. “How do I know it’s you?”

The blonde heaves a sigh, but pulls his phone out his pocket, smirk turning into a grin. He presses a few buttons before Mitch’s phone rings, making him jump again. The stranger holds it to his ear and gestures for Mitch to answer. He’s still grinning at him so Mitch does, feeling his face heat up at how stupid he must look.

“Is that proof enough for you?” Mitch can hear him, through the door and through the phone and breathes a sigh of relief. “Now will you please open the door?”

Mitch nods and pockets his phone. He adjusts his bag before reaching a hand out to slide the lock across. The guy opens the door and steps away, giving Mitch space to leave the tiny phone booth. He shuts the door behind Mitch before putting a bit of distance between them.

Mitch looks around them nervously, expecting the creep to jump out of the shadows, but they’re alone. His knight in shining armour looks around too, before turning back to Mitch.

“It’s okay, he’s gone. I saw him run off when I got here. Now, are you okay?” The blonde is holding his hands out in front of him, like he’s expecting Mitch to pass out, or hit him, or something. He looks unsure and nervous and it makes Mitch grin, settling the sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m fine. Thank you for coming.”

“It’s not a problem. I couldn’t let you go without knowing you were alright.” He pauses for a moment. Like he’s debating whether or not to say the next thing. “Hey. Look I know you’ve had enough of creepy guys tonight, but do you want me to drive you home?” He gestures to a car sat at the side of the road that Mitch hadn’t noticed. The driver’s door is wide open, like his rescuer couldn’t wait the second or so it would take to shut the door.

Calm floods through Mitch’s body now the danger has passed and he feels exhausted all of a sudden, eyes sore from crying and body feeling like it’s made of lead. But he still isn’t certain about getting into a car with someone he doesn’t know, not after what he’s just experienced. He shrugs.

“It’s fine if you don’t,” he stresses, “But I really just want to drop you off safe at home. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. How far away from here do you live? I can walk you if you don’t want to get in the car.”

Mitch smiles, all teeth and squinty eyes at how sweet this person is. The blonde smiles back and Mitch can finally appreciate just how gorgeous he is. He looks to be about Mitch’s age, pale skin smooth except for a few laugh lines around his eyes. Mitch thinks he’ll probably love his laugh. He’s tall too; definitely over six-feet, towering over Mitch as he looks back at him. He ducks his head shyly at Mitch’s gaze.

He’s adorable with his hands tucked into his sleeves, fingers peeking out the ends, and unbelievably sexy with the way he looks up at Mitch from under hooded lids; eyes the colour of the night sky above them.

“You can walk with me,” Mitch decides. “I only live a few blocks away.” Mitch turns the direction they need to be going and it’s enough to spurn his new friend into action.

“Okay. Great. Give me one sec.” His guardian angel sprints on long legs around to the driver’s side, shutting the door and locking the car behind him. Ten seconds later he’s back by Mitch’s side and offering his arm like a gentleman. Mitch slips his arm through with a giggle and they start walking.

“Hey, so I haven’t got your name yet?” Mitch asks.

“Scott. And yours?”

“Mitch.”

“Mitch?” Scott says, repeating the name a couple of times like he’s testing it on his tongue. “I like it.”

“Thanks.” Mitch giggles again, pulling Scott closer to his side. “And thank you for coming to my rescue. Though, I was expecting a white horse, not a blue pickup truck.”

“Sorry to disappoint, I guess.” Scott winks at him. He grins and drops his head, looking at his feet.

“Definitely not disappointed.” Scott looks up back at him and it’s Mitch’s turn to wink. A blush blooms Scott’s cheeks, red stark against the paleness of his skin.

As they pass another block, Scott clears his throat. “So, look… Mitch. Are you working late tomorrow too?”

Mitch groans as he remembers he’s on late shifts for the next few days. He definitely isn’t looking forward to the walk home if the creep comes back. He’s considering how much money he has left to be able to catch a cab the other nights when Scott squeezes his arm against his side.

“I can pick you up if you need me to. I don’t really sleep before midnight. It wouldn’t be a bother.”

“I can’t ask you to do that. You barely know me.”

Scott shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “You didn’t ask, I offered. And I’d like to get to know you. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

This gorgeous, kind, sweet, thoughtful stranger wants to leave his home to come pick Mitch up from work and wants to get to know him? Mitch would be crazy if he turned him down.

“I would like that. I would like that a lot.”

“Good. It’s a date.”

Scott beams at him and Mitch grins back, tears and stalkers forgotten.

[ _scott picks him up after work the following night, and every late night thereafter. six months later, they’re living together. a year after that, scott proposes to him under the starry night sky, next to that same damn phone booth. mitch laughs through his tears as he says ‘yes’_ ]


End file.
